


The Only Permanent Tenderness

by Mia_Zeklos



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Time Lord!Ianto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even heroes had their heroes while growing up. Jack's was just... a little bit unusual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Permanent Tenderness

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took ages to finish and even longer to get from paper to the computer, but I like to think it’s worth it. This is also the longest story I’ve ever written and I’d really love to know what you think of it.  
> Texts used are from The Ballad of Jeremiah Peacekeeper (Poets of the Fall), Ashes to the Stars (Tarot), Crows Fly Black (Tarot), The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (T. S. Eliot) and There Where the Waves Shatter (Pablo Neruda).  
> As usual, enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated.

_He sees an eternity in the blink of an eye  
_ _And for him this life is made of time and choices  
_ _The here and now will bow to him to only serve one purpose  
_ _To keep your peace_

**_Boeshane Peninsula, Year 5042_ **

Jack looked around impatiently as the room buzzed with excitement. This was something new; soldiers often visited their school and nobody thought much of it anymore. His colony had remained neutral ever since the Time War had started, but they still liked to show them the brave heroes that went against the Daleks. And, until now, they had always been human in origin.

They’d never had a Time Lord before.

Everyone wanted to see them, hear them, pray to them or kill them. People either worshipped them or vilified them and Jack had heard millions of different stories about them. That they had two heads, three legs, that their skin was red – the list went on and on. But he could never be sure–

The door opened abruptly and the classroom fell into silence as if a bomb had dropped between them. Even John, naturally hyperactive and physically unable to stay still, had now leant in in anticipation.

Jack had seen a lot in the short fourteen years he’d lived through, and he’d expected all sorts of wonders from a Time Lord, but the young man that was looking at them now looked almost human.

Emphasis on ‘almost’, Jack thought to himself. He was dressed in a dark red uniform and held his helmet in his hand, but nothing else suggested that he wasn’t from around here. His skin was much paler than Jack’s – or anyone else’s here, really – because he hadn’t spent so much time under the burning sun of their planet. His eyes were bright blue and his hair was just a bit darker than Jack’s and there was some unearthly glow about him, as if he was somehow misplaced and unsure as to how he’d got here. He was taller than any of the boys in their class, towering over them, and Jack could almost feel the awe that reigned upon the entire class.

“Hello!” The man gave a little wave and smiled. “We were told that you liked to be informed about how the War was going and your teacher invited us to visit if we’d like. My battle TARDIS is recharging outside, so–”

“’We’? Have you got your own team?” John cut in and got a few scathing looks from his classmates, boys and girls alike.

The Time Lord’s eyes focused on him and Jack felt as if his friend was being assessed under the bright gaze of a machine before he nodded. “Yes, I do. My teammates are currently spread with other classes.”

“So you’re a Captain, then?”

“Not really.” The hint of a smile was back. “Junior Commander from the Third Gallifreyan Battle Fleet.”

“That’s so cool,” someone put in artlessly and before Jack could ask him to expand on the last part, someone else asked a question as well. The enquiries went from ‘Is it true that Time Lords...” to “How old are you?”. The answer to the first one was most often ‘no’ and to the second, it was ‘nineteen’. It was also what made Jack shout over the flying question with his own: “Why did you join the war?”

Silence fell in the room – apparently the answer interested the others as well – as the Time Lord’s eyes focused on him.

“Why wouldn’t I?” The soldier seemed a bit taken aback and Jack felt the smallest satisfaction from the fact that he’d managed to impress him.

“You could’ve done anything with your life, so why join the Army?”

If Jack didn’t know better, he’d say that their guest was scandalised, but he didn’t even raise his voice when he responded. In fact, it was even quieter than before. “Because if we don’t fight, doing anything I want with my life would be a very short experience. When you’re at war, you’ve got to fight for what you hold close.”

“Do you have a family?” Jack couldn’t resist asking; not when the last answer had hit so close to home. “Back on Gallifrey?”

“I do. They’re fighting as well. Why do you want to know?”

“No reason,” Jack said quietly. “Just curious.”

**o.O.o**

“You like him.”

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t know you went for the soldier type.”

“Leave me _alone,_ John!”

John just went on laughing behind his back. Sure, everyone had liked the Time Lord – the girls were still whispering about it in the corner of the room as their teacher spoke.

The soldiers that usually visited them talked about self-sacrifice and the pain and sorrow that had to be endured. They were impressive, of course, and Jack had admired them for their bravery, but no one had been as honest as this one had.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Jack said before abruptly standing up from his chair and excusing himself in front of Miss Scott, and then he took off as quickly as possible.

From what he knew, a TARDIS needed twenty-four hours to recharge. Which meant that they still had to be around.

The school wasn’t big – their colony was a small one and the children weren’t many – so he got to the front fairly quickly, and there it was. A shiny silver machine, definitely not big enough to house more than two people. And yet, a team of at least six soldiers – all of them in the same red uniforms – was wandering about, laughing and chatting. Two of them – a man and a woman – were sitting on the ground and eating while another woman and two more men were cleaning their weapons. And there, leaning against the machine, was the one he’d met in class.

“Commander!” Jack shouted, heading straight for him. An amused smile curled the man’s lips when he saw him approaching and he gestured at him to come closer.

“You don’t really have to call me that, you know,” he noted. “I’m not _your_ commander, after all.”

“Well– what’s your name, then?” Jack wasn’t sure if Time Lords even told their names to anyone, but it was worth a try.

“It’s Ianto. Well, everyone calls me Ianto. My whole name is a bit of a mouthful.”

“Oh.” Jack wasn’t sure how to start. “I wanted to talk to you.” Ianto nodded to show he was listening and Jack licked his lips nervously. “My brother went missing a few years ago.” He took a deep breath and then blurted out, “That machine of yours – the TARDIS – it travels in time too, doesn’t it?”

The Commander’s expression softened as he apparently realised where this was heading.

“Listen– what’s your name?”

“Jack.”

“Listen, Jack, I would help you if I could. But a TARDIS is controlled by six people and that means that I’ll have to drag my team into this and I’m not sure that they’ll be willing to not tell anyone about it.” His eyes were fixed on one of the men as he said it, Jack noticed, which meant that there was one single member of his team that he didn’t trust. “It’s against the law to save people by going back in time – and we’re speaking the laws of Time here. The war wouldn’t have been so hard to win if we could bring everyone back, would it?”

“No,” Jack said quietly. “I suppose it wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jack assured him and held out his hand. Ianto looked at it as if he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, then he shook it hesitantly. “Do you think you might come back?” He asked just as the Time Lord made to retreat into his ship.

He turned around and smiled. “Who knows,” he said softly, tone a little wistful, “I just might.”

  _Jump into madness awaiting at the seams  
_ _Of reality and mind  
_ _Through the wound torn in space and time  
_ _I blink, centuries unwind_

**_Cardiff, Wales, Year 2007_ **

“...And that’s about it. That’s what happened while we were on that planet or whatever it was. The last rock standing.” Jack’s eyes were straying all over the place, unable to focus on anything. Ianto was watching him quietly, without saying a word, but when there was nothing coming from Jack, he prompted, “And then the Master got into the Doctor’s TARDIS.”

Jack took in a shaky breath. “He did.”

“And Henry Saxon was actually him, is that right?” There was a healthy amount of doubt in his tone and Jack felt the urge to smile. It would be the first honest smile in a long while and it felt almost unnatural on his face, but he let it show anyway. “Yeah, can you believe that? I voted for him!”

“Not me,” Ianto shrugged. “Always knew there was something off about him.”

Jack’s smile fell. “You did?”

“He was just– I can’t put my finger on it. I met him once back in One, you know. I didn’t really like him all that much, and all my colleagues just went on about how amazing he was.”

Jack stared some more and then burst out laughing. He could feel the looks that landed on them – or, well, even more looks than they’d already received – but he didn’t particularly care. They were in that Italian restaurant he’d planned on taking Ianto, and so far everything was going according to plan. The place was just a bit too snobbish for him and was therefore the perfect place for Ianto who was used to operating with three sets of cutlery while eating next to nothing.

“What is it?” Ianto asked, bemused. Jack managed to calm down enough to get out, “You’re an absolute marvel.”

Ianto’s smile was a bit hesitant but it was there nonetheless. “Yes, I am,” he said honestly, which only made Jack laugh more. “What brought this on, though?”

Jack shook his head, still unable to get over his giggles. “Never mind.”

Ianto cleared his throat and sobered up. “And then he came here.”

Jack nodded. “Exactly. And from then on, it all happened as I told you.” The night they’d had to avoid themselves, Jack had ended up in Ianto’s room in the hotel and had asked to sleep there, too embarrassed to admit that he didn’t want to be alone. Not after a year of nothing but being by himself in the darkness.

Ianto had let him in without asking questions and had let him sleep in his bed. He’d only asked “How are you?” before turning around to go to sleep, and that was when Jack had realised that he wanted to say it all. Everything he’d intended to keep in secret; everything he’d tried to hold back. Ianto had listened without saying a word and had now asked for details. Jack suspected that he was just curious what had happened to the team through the year that had never been and Jack had found that saying it made it easier for him to cope.

Nobody had thought to ask, except for Ianto. With everyone else it had been ‘where have you been?’ and ‘do you know how hard it was without you here’ and ‘we need to hire more people, because if you’re planning on leaving again...’ but no one had asked him a simple ‘how are you?’

And Ianto had and as they made their way back two hours later, Jack realised just how much he’d needed that. Him. There had always been this thing about Ianto, ever since they’d met. Even after he’d betrayed him, there had been this constant, stubborn feeling that Ianto could take care of things and fix everything, no matter how bad it was.

They’d ended up in front of Ianto’s building and Jack lingered on the steps, unsure. The look Ianto threw him was welcoming and open, but the Captain knew what he had to do.

He took Ianto’s hand to turn him around and placed a quick, chaste kiss on his lips, then stepped back. “Goodnight.”

Ianto was clearly surprised – Jack could tell that he was unsure how to react by the way his eyes had widened – and he frowned. “I thought we’d–”

Jack chuckled. “We were going to take it slow, remember?” Ianto seemed deeply frustrated and Jack outright laughed. “Don’t give me that look. I’ve lasted a year without any of that; you’ll be able to hold for a week or two. Don’t bother,” he added when Ianto looked ready to object. “The night I came back, you smelt like sex from thirty feet away.”

Ianto gave a small laugh of his own and nodded. “Okay then. Slow it is. Night, Jack.”

“Night,” Jack echoed and then stared at the door until it locked itself behind Ianto’s back.

**o.O.o**

As he entered his flat, Ianto sighed and dropped his keys on the cabinet in the hallway and closed his eyes.

He’d been so close to telling him. So close. He’d even got as far as ‘There’s something I need to tell you’ at one point and had then chickened out with ‘I was the one who drank your Scotch bottle’. He’d wanted to say it, but it had felt like it was too soon.

Jack barely knew him now. In fact, he didn’t know him at all.

“I know you’re here,” he said, irritated, when he saw the faint light coming from the kitchen. He turned the lights on just as a man entered the living room. “And after everything I went through today and after everything I heard, I’d rather wish that you weren’t.”

“What have I done this time?” The Doctor dropped down on his sofa, looking strangely out of place between the heavy antique furniture and dark wallpapers. Jack had often joked that Ianto’s flat looked like the Dracula had chosen it for a permanent residence and had become a steampunk nerd over time, and Ianto felt that the description was accurate, if vaguely offensive.

“You told him he was wrong. That his very existence is a mistake. How could you do that?” Ianto neared him briskly and was mildly pleased to see that the Doctor’s position became defensive. “He loves you! How can you do that to someone who–”

“He doesn’t love me,” the Doctor cut him off with a wave of the hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. Whatever he thinks he feels for me is nothing more than hero worship.”

Ianto laughed mirthlessly. “Same here, but I at least try not to tell him that he’s an abomination.”

“It might have been hero worship at first,” the Doctor admitted and conveniently ignored the second part. “And yes, maybe it was still a bit of that on a later date as well, but not in the end.”

“I wasn’t a hero,” Ianto muttered, his eyes focusing on the carved ornaments of the table instead of the Doctor’s penetrating gaze. “Not always. I’ve killed people. Not Daleks, _people_ , when there was even the slightest doubt that they might side with the opposition.”

There was a sigh from the other Time Lord – they could talk about the Time War for hours and still not reach a consensus – and Ianto desperately sought something to distract him with. “Where’s the TARDIS? Because if you’ve parked her around the block, chances are Jack has seen her and is already trying to break in.”

The Doctor shook his head and adopted the ‘you’re not going to be pleased to hear this’ face. Ianto saw it often and was gradually more agitated with it every time it appeared. “She’s, ah, parked in here.” He gulped. “In your bedroom, to be precise.”

Ianto groaned. The Doctor was like an annoying, overprotective father – constantly judged him for his life choices, had a weekly ‘are you still working for Torchwood’ speech ever since Ianto had started at One, disapproved of every single girlfriend, boyfriend, fling or one night stand Ianto had ever had and never left for long enough for Ianto to get it together without being bothered.

“I was on the brink of bringing Jack up here,” Ianto protested, exhausted, against this new attack on his privacy. “That could have ended _disastrously_.”

‘That’s what you get for bringing all sorts of folk here.” Despite the fact that the Doctor insisted that it was just dangerous for him to have certain kinds of relations with numerous different alien species, Ianto suspected that he didn’t fancy the idea of a warrior from Vita 15 who could brag about his escapades with a Time Lord. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“I was bored!” Ianto argued and felt a pleased smirk threatening to show up on his face. “It’s more fun with Jack, but when he’s gone–”

He still couldn’t believe that he’d met Jack again. After all those years, after everything they’d went through separately, it was almost surreal that they were brought back together by circumstances. It was even more surreal that he couldn’t say _anything_ about himself to Jack without triggering memories that weren’t supposed to exist, especially since Jack was getting more and more suspicious as to why Ianto never wanted to share anything with him.

 “I’m sorry about what I said to him.” The Doctor’s voice was soft, his eyes still on Ianto. “I didn’t know it would hurt him so much. But– I made a promise to your mother. I promised that I’ll keep you safe and Jack Harkness isn’t the safest person to be around. Try to understand.”

Ianto could just imagine his mother talking to the Doctor about her son’s safety. Zenys had been nothing if not protective and she’d made the Doctor – the only friend she’d had who had had the power to actually change things – promise that he’d try to get Ianto out and take care of him if he needed to. And now, naturally, even though he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, Ianto knew that there was no getting rid of him.

“I understand,” he said at last. “But I’m safe with him. He’s a good leader.”

“I’m not surprised,” the Doctor said under his breath and Ianto raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t not have seen it already,” the Doctor said, waving a hand dismissively. “When Ianto kept on looking at him, he sighed. “Come on, Ianto, really/ the tough leader who never gives up and leads his small but daring team into battle no matter the consequences? Without or without knowing it, he’s modelled himself after you.”

“Which only proves what I said earlier,” Ianto shot back. “Hero worship. A subconscious reaction to someone he’s admired as a boy, that’s all there is to it.”

“No, it’s not, because he’s getting to know you all over again. Give him a chance. I still stand by what I said – he’s dangerous – but that’s probably exactly what you need. If you two work on it, I think you might just be able to fix each other.”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” Ianto muttered and then got up. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to sleep. I’ll have to be back at work in three hours.”

The Doctor took the hint and got up, heading for Ianto’s bedroom. “See you around,” he said as he got into the TARDIS a moment later.

“Bloody hope not,” Ianto grumbled before closing his eyes and leaning against the back of the sofa.

Whatever he’d told the Doctor, there was not time to sleep, and the least he could do about it was relax, even if it was just for a while.

_Screaming in flames down from the sky  
_ _That’s how he comes in my dreams  
_ _The Earth and sky as one in countless pieces  
_ _Time stands still, frozen in the flow_

**_The Time Agency, Year 5047_ **

Jack grimaced, irritated, as he pushed the door open with his elbow. His boss had loaded his hands with about three centuries’s worth of documentation for whoever it was that was coming to visit them.

“Oh, there you are. Did Max Kliener send you?”

Jack froze by the door as the man stood up from the table usually used for conferences or negotiations and took the documents from the young Time Agent’s unresponsive hands. He wasn’t sure he could move.

“If the Time Agency insist of keeping its neutrality,” Ianto went on, unaware of his shock, “they should try and mind their own business. I’m tired of being sent as an ambassador for people who like listening to their own voices even more than I do. What is it?” he asked, frowning, when no reaction whatsoever came from Jack.

Five years. Five years had passed, and he was not a bloody day older. Jack was sure, because the day they’d met had seared itself into his mind.

You couldn’t easily forget the person who had been your last hope.

“Ianto?” He asked quietly; not that there was any doubt. “Junior Commander of the Third Gallifreyan Battle Fleet?”

“The one and only.” There was suspicion added to the frown now. “Have we met?”

“Five years ago,” Jack said, voice still barely audible. “You visited a school in Boeshane Peninsula. There was a boy asking you for help.”

“He wanted to find his little brother,” Ianto finished for him. “Oh my God. Are you–”

“The one and only,” Jack said, a small, bitter smile curling his lips. “You said you’d come back."

“No, you don’t understand.” Ianto had dumped all the documents on the table by his side and was now fiddling with his own fingers; doing everything he could to avoid Jack’s eyes. “That was– that was two hours ago. Our ship was out of fuel, I didn’t even know what year we’d landed in. I thought that, once the war was over, I could probably help. I could find him for you, because why not? But I didn’t realise–”

“It’s fine. I didn’t really expect you to.” He’d met a few more Time Lords since he’d met Ianto, and now he knew what they were like. Distracted, detached, and completely focused on their war. Their thoughts were flying from one direction to another with the speed of light and time hardly mattered for them. Why should it, really? Beings that had turned Time into their plaything and weren’t even affected by it because of their near-immortality had no reason to be afraid by its passing. “The War’s still going on, after all.”

It was ‘the War’ now. The only war that could knock the Universe off its feet; the one that was led into every corner of time and space.

“You’ve signed up for the Time Agency?” Ianto asked, taking in his uniform. “What for?”

“You’ve seen my planet. What’s worth _staying_ for?” Without his family, Boeshane Peninsula became what it actually was – a desert and nothing more.

“Aren’t you a bit young for them to recruit you?” Ianto’s voice still held a healthy amount of scepticism.

Jack groaned and rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start. It’s not like I don’t hear this every single day anyway.” Steven from his dormitory had even called him ‘kiddo’ once. “I’m your age, and you’re in the Army, aren’t you?”

“Point taken,” Ianto conceded. “Anyway, why are you here?”

“Mr Kliener sent me to give you these.” He pointed at the documents. “And he told me to tell you that he’ll stop asking for reports from Gallifrey if it means that you won’t set foot here again and, quote, ‘keep your hands well off his agents'. Is he overreacting or do I have reasons to hope?” Jack had actually heard something about a Time Lord who had at least two of their best agents wrapped around his little finger, but he’d never supposed that it would be _him_ of all people. He could see why Kliener would be mad. He wanted Time Lords to report to him about planets that covered the Time Agency’s jurisdiction but also liked to keep his agents fully under his own control, and trysts with an alien that many of the Agency’s personnel would find enticing was certainly taking some things out of his hands.

Ianto shook his head firmly. “No. Definitely not. You were fourteen two hours ago.”

“Well, I’m not fourteen now.” Mr Kliener wouldn’t be all that mad. Jack was well known for sleeping around, and he had a beautiful soldier alone with him in a conference room... Opportunities like that one couldn’t be missed.

Another shake of the head and Ianto patted a chair opposite of the one he chose and they both sat down. “Come on,” he said with a sigh. “Let the negotiations start.”

  **o.O.o**

As it turned out, the Time Lords’s reasoning with the Time Agency took several weeks of on and off verbal duelling between the President and Mr Kliener, with several agents and soldiers as the main messengers between them. Jack got used to Ianto’s somewhat constant presence and his wandering around the building, shouting orders at his team mates was an expected and pleasurable soundtrack and he found that he felt better when the Commander was around. He’d confided in him once, five years ago, his one hopeless wish and he felt as if as long as the man was still there, Jack could draw strength from him.

And yet, it was time for him to go. The contract had been signed – and Jack knew that it involved helping Gallifrey when things got bad and the Gallifreyan army was in one of their areas – and Ianto and his team had other things on their hands; other planets to save.

“It doesn’t mean that it’s forever,” Ianto assured him as they stood in the middle of the corridor after the Time Agent had complained that they would never see each other again. Jack knew that his TARDIS was parked outside and that everybody else was ready to go. “I might come back.”

“Of course,” he agreed and gave Ianto a crooked smile. “Won’t you at least give me something to remember you by? I’ve heard that this was what soldiers did back on Old Earth.” It wasn’t too much to ask for a kiss, was it? He had no idea how these things worked on Gallifrey, but from the rumours he’d heard during the last week, the young Time Lord didn’t shy away from anyone. So far, it had only irritated Kliener further – all Ianto needed was to look at someone with those bright blue eyes and they were like putty in his hands. It amused Jack to no end, even if he perfectly realised that he was a victim to the same treatment often enough.

Ianto closed his eyes for a moment, clearly conflicted, then nodded. “Yes. Sure.” He sighed. “I’m gonna regret this.”

Jack was all but holding his breath from anticipation now. He stepped closer to Ianto and smiled up at him. He’d heard that kissing a Time Lord was like–

“There you go.” Something heavy was pressed into his palm. Jack snapped out of his trance and looked down to see a strangely shaped object with a red leather casing.

“Huh?” He said intelligently and Ianto smiled.

“It’s a knife, especially made for each member of the Army – that’s why they check sometimes if we still carry them with us. The best one I’ve got; it’s got me out of not one or two tough situations.”

“Thank you,” Jack managed, still mildly startled. He knew that he’d probably keep the weapon with him everywhere he went – it was a bit like an autograph from your favourite racer in the starship championship – he still couldn’t help but add, “I was kinda hoping I could get a kiss as well?”

Ianto’s already unusually big eyes now widened even more; something Jack had thought to be impossible. He smiled, then, and laughed quietly. “Humans!” he said and Jack was just about to give him a piece of his mind about commenting on humanity’s impulsiveness when Ianto turned to him again and cupped Jack’s cheek in his palm, and the words died in his throat.

Ianto searched his face and then slowly leant down, tentatively pressing their lips together. The kiss was soft and hesitant and extremely gentle, even when the Time Lord slipped his tongue into his mouth.

All the stories were telling the truth, Jack thought, dazed, as Ianto grew more confident and placed his other hand on Jack’s shoulder, bringing him even closer. All the stories that he’d heard about how a kiss from a Time Lord made you see the Universe up close were telling the truth, and he could now try it first hand with someone who had been virtually giving him hope to keep going for the last five years.

When Ianto finally relaxed, Jack placed a hand on the small of his back and felt the rough fabric of his uniform under his fingers. He wasn’t used to anyone being so delicate with this sort of thing and he definitely hadn’t expected it from Ianto, given the reputation he’d earned for the one week he’d been here.

It was the Time Lord who pulled back first and Jack couldn’t help the disappointed sigh he let out by the loss of contact. Ianto looked a bit conflicted and Jack smiled. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“How was it? For a human?” He teased, but to his surprise, Ianto didn’t pick up on it. There was still that bemused expression on his face.

“It was– nice,” he said in the end and frowned to himself. “Yes! Nice. Very... thought-provoking.”

Jack felt his smile slipping. “Don’t tell me that this was a first for you.”

Ianto scoffed. “Hardly. You heard what Kliener said about me, didn’t you?”

“But you’ve never kissed anyone just like that, have you? You’ve never kissed anyone just for the hell of it, just because you can.”

Ianto’s expression became indignant. “I’m a soldier! I don’t have time for– that sort of thing. This here was different. When I’m stranded on one planet for a week, why not make it fun? But otherwise – no, not really. Other things on my mind.”

“You’ve never had the time to love anybody?” Jack raised an eyebrow. He was Ianto’s age and couldn’t imagine the memories from the last few years without the several relationships he’d had. Some of them seemed a bit naive now, but he still looked back at them fondly.

“We’re at war,” Ianto reminded him gently. “Everything else has to wait.”

And, probably for the first time, Jack understood why people called Time Lords ‘the lonely gods’.

“I hate you,” Jack said, voice hoarse. “I hate you and your noble, ‘saving the Universe’ bullcrap.”

“I know,” Ianto said quietly. “Sometimes I hate me too.”

_Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me  
_ _Would it have been worth while  
_ _To have bitten off the matter with a smile  
_ _To have squeezed the Universe into a ball  
_ _To roll it towards some overwhelming question  
_ _To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead  
_ _Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all.”_

**_New York, US, Year 2011_ **

“I’m sorry we abducted you like that,” Martha apologised yet again, but Gwen didn’t really mind being taken with a helicopter from the garden of her home as long as someone _just told her what was happening_.

“You said it was important,” she said and Martha nodded. She looked tired and Gwen could see that she hadn’t slept in some time, and the frantic fiddling of her finger with a loose thread from her shirt was enough to tell her that she’d been living off caffeine and nerves in the last few days, if not weeks.

“It is,” she assured as they found themselves in front of a door and Martha began rapidly typing a code.

Just a few hours ago Gwen had been home, having just woken up and feeding Anwen her breakfast. All had been well and good, even if she said so herself, and yet when (just after kissing Rhys goodbye as he took off to work) she’d heard the helicopter hovering outside  and had ran out to see what the hell was happening, she’d felt the smallest nostalgia for the thrill of the days past. She’d got Rhys to stay at home and take care of Anwen for a few hours, explaining – when his initial reaction was outrage – that UNIT wanting to meet her was the American equivalent of the Queen calling her for a chat, and then had climbed up the ladder at Martha’s assurances that it was urgent.

She’d seen very little of New York so far – the helicopter had landed on top of their base – and all there had been since then was sterile, white corridors and countless codes. There were people everywhere as well and, when Martha closed that last door, Gwen realised that she had probably waited for them to be in private and then explain.

They were in a large room with blindingly bright lights and a lot of storage cabinets that looked not-so-vaguely familiar. It was significantly colder in here when compared to the rest of the building and Gwen looked sideways at Martha. The other woman seemed to see where her thoughts were heading because she nodded.

“This is the UNIT morgue,” she started. “All the deaths that need to remain unexplained, all the cases that have to be swept under the carpet are usually incinerated – there’s not enough space – but the ones – UNIT soldiers, Torchwood agents, even civilians sometimes – who have died protecting the world are kept here. Most of them can’t be buried for a list of reasons, but it’s still thought of as a gesture to their memory.

“Almost a month ago, there was a power outage. Of course, we’ve got our own power sources, and that was exactly the problem – when they broke down, we were left in the dark – quite literally – for almost ten hours.”

“Enough for someone or something to come out of deep freeze?” Gwen asked tentatively. She still wasn’t sure what her part in this was, but she was intrigued.

Martha nodded. “It would seem so, yes. One of our security guards – the one who takes care of the cameras here and the machines that keep everything frozen – noticed life signs in one of the cabinets. He called for back-up, of course, and I was called as well – Medical Officer and all that.”

There was a pause and, when Martha didn’t seem able to continue, Gwen gently prompted, “Was it someone you know?”

“Yes,” Martha said quietly. “But someone you know better. That’s why I called you – I thought you ought to know. The brigadier wanted you to identify– identify the body.”

And with that, she abruptly turned to another door, Gwen quickly followed after that.

“All the labs are here,” she confided in her. “The important ones, I mean. The ones that there are no cameras into because, frankly, some things are too big for just anyone to see.”

“And if they do?” Gwen asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

Martha pointed at the ceiling and Gwen saw several black circles placed all over it all the way to the other end of the corridor. “We took the technology from London. When activated, those things trigger the release of a gas that causes amnesia and makes you lose the last several hours.”

“Very civilised,” Gwen murmured and Martha laughed.

“At this part of the base, very few things come even close to civilised. On the same note, don’t even try to open any door here unless you want to be scarred for life. Most of them have codes, but still, a warning never hurts. Only the ones with the biggest authority are allowed past the morgue.”

“And that’s where you keep that– person, is it?” Gwen asked, her heart suddenly heavy. For the first time since she’d arrived, she wasn’t sure if she actually wanted to get to the end of this. The ghosts of the past were one too many.

“Exactly.” Martha stopped in front of a door – completely identical to the other ones, or so it seemed to Gwen – and another screen, this time one requiring a retina scan before something inside it clicked and the door slid open. “This is probably going to be traumatic and I’m sorry, but it might also mean something good, so...”

Her voice faded and she let Gwen in.

At first, she couldn’t see anything but a hospital bed in the middle of the room. It was surrounded by all sorts of equipment that showed pulse, temperature, blood pressure and God knows what else. The bed itself was a mess of cables and wires and only the barest hint of a human body.

Until she got the chance to look at it from a different angle.

Gwen took in a sharp breath and found herself on the bedside in the matter of seconds.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Martha asked quietly and she nodded.

“It is,” she said, touching his forehead and then placing her fingers under his nose, and there it was. Breathing, strong and clear. “Oh my God, it is.” She tried to keep the smile off her face – after all, people didn’t just come back from the dead, there had to be a catch – and didn’t quite succeed.

Martha tapped her comm. – another wave of nostalgia – and apparently made contact with the right person. “Sir, we’ve identified him. Ianto Jones, Torchwood.” She frowned. “No, sir. Give us a moment.” She cancelled the connection.

“What is it?” Gwen asked. “I mean – it’s been more than two years, how can he be alive?”

“We’re not sure yet, but there’s something else.” Martha looked uncomfortable. “They think he might be a clone or a shapeshifter or something like that, so– Is there anything– a birthmark or a scar, a tattoo, anything not easily visible so that it wouldn’t have been copied?”

Had everything been still all right and had Ianto been alive, the answer would have been an indignant, “How would I know that?”, but as it was, Gwen sighed and nodded.

“Right above his left knee,” she started slowly, “there’s a scar. A burn, actually, from a Dalek ray, as far as I know.”

“Have you seen it?” Martha asked and Gwen could see that she was fully in Doctor mode. “Can you identify it?” Another nod. “Show me.”

Gwen reached for the bed, ready to just get it over with, but something made her stop.

Ianto looked like he was asleep. Not dead anymore, that horrible paleness was gone and he was breathing, albeit slowly, and it felt wrong to treat him like a corpse. It felt strange that after two years of careful pretending that Torchwood had never happened, here she was, in the UNIT base staring down at one of her best friends who looked like he’d decided to take a two years long nap.

“Gwen?” Martha reminded her softly and she gave a curt nod to show that she understood before she picked up the end of the sheet where it covered Ianto’s feet and took it up to his knees.

“There,” she pointed, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t think that whatever enemy he has would have seen that.”

“Sir?” Martha was back in touch with her boss. “Yes. Confirmed now. Can we keep going? Yes. Thank you.”

She turned to Gwen again and motioned at her to come closer. “The thing here is, all tests say that he’s in perfect health. No poison in his lungs any longer; he’s back to factory settings, but he’s not waking up. And his temperature is falling slowly. Any idea what that might be? Was there anything – peculiar about him back at Torchwood?”

“The peculiar thing about Ianto was Ianto,” Gwen said, distracted, as she looked him up and down carefully for the first time since she’d come here. “Bloody hell, he’s skin and bones.”

“We’re trying to feed him,” Martha said, gesturing at one of the tubes connected to his right hand. “But his body rejects almost everything. Only fluids seem to be okay, so we’re going mostly with that.”

“And what are all those?” Gwen motioned at all the other cables attached to Ianto’s body. It felt like her own body was slightly separated from her mind; she was all business now, the numb shock and tentative hope that mixed in her head hidden as deeply as possible.

If Torchwood had taught her something it was not to hope for anything before it had already happened.

“We’re taking readings for every organ in his body. There seems to be some sort of metamorphosis going on, look.” Martha pointed out one of the monitors and Gwen squinted against the distorted image. “That’s his heart here. It’s stable, but it’s like– if I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s _moving_. Very, very slowly, but still moving. And his lungs have a bigger capacity now, which isn’t a problem of itself, but it could easily turn into– Jesus Christ!”

 They both jumped back as there was a sharp intake of breath from the bed and then movement combined with a small, surprised gasp.

Gwen was by his side immediately and Ianto blinked blearily up at her as his eyes tried to get accustomed to the bright lights over them.

"Gwen?" He sat up and then winced as all the cables moved along with him. "What the- Where are we?"

"UNIT, New York," Gwen managed past the lump in her throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Good," he added when he caught her expression - not that she was really sure what she looked like right now. "I'm sorry," he mumbled as he kept staring down at the equipment, his eyes wide with surprise. "I must've scared the hell out of you."

Gwen laughed, the sound a bit choked as she felt her eyes almost hurt with the unshed tears. "That's a bit of an understatement, don't you think?"

"New York?" Ianto seemed to suddenly realise what she'd said. "The children-"

"Jack stopped them," Gwen assured him quickly. "It's okay."

"Why did UNIT take me in? Did the Doctor call?"

"The Doctor?" Ianto twitched at the sound of a new voice and Gwen watched him frown as he turned to Martha. "What does the Doctor have to do with this?"

Ianto was still frowning and Gwen could see that he was trying to get his thoughts in order. "Martha! Hi. I thought you were on your honeymoon." When the room fell into silence, Ianto grimaced. "Don't tell me that Jack brought you back so you could deal with me."

Gwen braced herself and then cleared her throat discreetly. "Ianto, can you give me the current month and year?" She knew that asking for a date would be a bit much if he thought he'd lost a few days.

"July," Ianto said confidently, then hesitated. "Or maybe early August. Two thousand and nine." When Gwen didn't say anything more, realisation dawned in Ianto's eyes. "How much time have I lost?"

"It's December 1st," Gwen said carefully, then decided to just drop the bomb. "2011."

Ianto closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged like a puppet dropped by its master, the impression made even stronger by the fact that he was wrapped up from everywhere. "2011," he repeated faintly. "I've lost two years. Two fucking-" He took in sharp, shaky breaths and when Martha cut in, Gwen was more than grateful for the distraction.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly and touched his shoulder. It was half a friendly gesture and half the touch of a doctor doing an examination and Gwen could see the conflict in her eyes before she continued. "I'm sorry, Ianto, I really am, but you need to tell me what's going on."

"I need you to tell me some things first," Ianto objected, voice calm and collected, and Martha nodded. "When I died, UNIT took the body and froze me." She nodded again. "How long was I dead for before you put me in the freezer?"

"About seven hours, I'd say." Gwen could see that Martha was clearly uncomfortable speaking of a body when the man was alive and breathing in front of her. "Jack was listed as the closest thing you've got to a next of kin in our records, so we asked him if he wanted that or cremation. He chose this."

"My sister?"

"She organised a funeral."

"Empty coffin, of course."

"Yes."

"Neat."

A hysterical, relief-driven laugh left Gwen's lips - there was no doubt left as to whether this was Ianto or not - and Martha's eyes widened almost comically. " _Neat_?"

Ianto shrugged. "You did a good job with the cover-up, that's all."

If there was one thing Ianto was exceptionally good at, it was avoiding questions about himself. Gwen had been good at getting past that once, and it was all coming back to her now. "You don't look surprised to- well, be back from the dead."

"I'm not back; I'm still dying. It's just my body already repairing itself." Ianto was starting to seem a bit uncomfortable with the topic - and that usually meant that she was on the right track, which meant that Gwen would have to dig deeper.

"You do realise that this was a bit self-contradictory, right?" She said, voice level despite the chill that went through her at the mention that he was still dying. She couldn’t afford to hope if she was going to lose him anyway. She just couldn't.

"Martha?" Ianto looked up. "The Doctor - and his species in general - are sort of the big thing here, yeah?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Do you know what's characteristic for a Time Lord's first body?"

Martha squinted, as if trying to concentrate, and then her expression fell. "It's fully indistinguishable from a human's," she said quietly at last. She apparently knew where this was heading and, as much as she didn't want to, Gwen was catching up as well.

"And what happens just before the regeneration kicks in?" Ianto asked and this time, Gwen found herself responding.

"Let me guess. Factory settings?"

Ianto gave a small smile and nodded. "Factory settings. And then, when the first body starts regenerating-"

"- a second heart appears."Martha looked like she was reciting a lesson, and Gwen didn't doubt that she'd been taught this many times, just as all the other recruits of UNIT. "That's why your heart was moving. It's making place for the one on the right."

“Exactly." Ianto's voice was barely more than a whisper. "The blood circulation becomes slower and the body temperature falls. Given that my body's been in deep freeze for two years, though, it's being a bit slow."

"If we hadn't frozen you, how long would it take?" Gwen knew that it was no use to know it now, but she had to know. She wasn't even sure what species they were talking about here, but it didn't matter - it never would, not if it concerned someone she cared about. 

"About an hour more and I would have woken up. A minute on top of it and the regeneration would have been over." Ianto didn't seem angry or even irritated by the realisation, and Gwen's breath left her in a hiss.

"Jesus, Ianto, I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," he assured quickly, but she shook her head.

"If we'd only waited just a bit more-" It seemed so stupid now, so ridiculous, that if they had waited just a bit more, he wouldn't have had to waste two years in a near-dead state in a cabinet in UNIT's morgue.

"You didn't know. It wasn't your fault," he insisted when Gwen opened her mouth to object. "And we don't have time for this. It's going to start any minute now."

"What is it, exactly?" Gwen asked, only half-aware that her fingers had curled around his wrist, unwilling to let go just yet. "The regeneration?"

"It cleanses the body from any viruses, wounds, pain - anything that's been done to him in his life up to this moment," Martha explained.

"Maybe it's best if you get out," Ianto said, addressing both women. "I've heard that the first regeneration hurts a lot and, well, since it's going to be slower, it might not be very pleasant."

"I'm not leaving you," Gwen said immediately and Ianto sighed.

"I had a feeling that you'd say that." He carefully started disconnecting the equipment from his body. "Well, at least turn around. The light'll be rather-" Ianto's voice died and Gwen looked down just in time to see that the hand she was holding was starting to shimmer. "Here we go, then."

Gwen took his advice and turned around just in time to see Martha doing the same.

Just in time to hear the screams start.

**o.O.o**

It was two days later that UNIT got Gwen - now along with Ianto - back to Wales. They'd interrogated him for the bigger part of that time and, after he'd told them everything about himself and how he'd ended up on Earth, they had let him go with an apology for the 'inconvenience' with the freezer, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that were both too big to him.

"It's not that bad," Ianto said when Gwen started talking about it the moment they were on the plane home, away from UNIT's prying eyes. "If I'd still been in One, Yvonne would have patiently waited to shoot me twelve times until I stop regenerating."

"Is that how many times you can do it?" Gwen asked. They hadn't had much time to talk, given that Ianto had fallen asleep right after regenerating (Martha had assured her that it was perfectly normal) and then UNIT had taken him away for tests and interrogation.

Ianto nodded. "Thirteen lives, twelve regenerations. I can even change my face if I want to. Not really fond of the idea, mind you."

Gwen still couldn't quite believe it. Ianto - quiet, reserved Ianto - was an alien. An  _alien_. She could feel it, too; whenever she touched him and his skin was cold as ice, she got another reminder.

"A Time Lord," she contemplated out loud and Ianto smiled. "Seriously though, is that what you call yourselves?"

The smile morphed into a grin. "Yeah. That's what everyone else called us as well. The protectors of the Universe. Well, some of us. The majority saw the rest of creation as a documentary that's currently being filmed - only watched, never got involved."

"And why did you leave?" It was a bit like she was told a fairytale, Gwen thought, and she swallowed the new information like fresh water after wandering in the desert for days. It was quite like that, she realised; Rhys didn't really like it when she mentioned any of what she'd learnt in Torchwood, especially if Anwen was in the room.

"I was a soldier in the War. The Time War," he clarified when she raised an eyebrow. "All of time and space was involved because the Vortex was falling apart. No one remembers it now, though; not after what happened."

"Who were you fighting against?" Gwen had lowered her voice unintentionally and belatedly realised that this was, yet again, her Torchwood training kicking in. It was as if everything she'd tried to leave for dead two years ago was now crawling on the surface, and she couldn't honestly say she minded it.

“The Daleks. Can’t even tell you how it started, really; it began before I was born. I grew up dreaming to be a soldier and finally, I got what I wanted.” Ianto laughed humourlessly. “There was so much more I wanted to do and so much that was out of my control.”

“Can you talk about it? It’s not going to cause a paradox or something like that, is it?” She couldn’t deny that she was curious, and there wasn’t much point in it anyway.

Ianto let out a small laugh and this time seemed genuinely amused rather than cynical. “No, it’s not. But I do believe that we’re landing, so maybe we should leave it for another day.”

**o.O.o**

“Rhys!” Gwen went straight for him as she and Ianto made their way through the people at the airport. “What are you doing here?”

“I took a leave from work. Obviously.” His voice was a bit edgy but she ignored it in favour of more pressing matters.

“Where’s Anwen?”

“With your mother.” Before she had a chance to say anything, he went on. “Seriously, Gwen, leaving for three days without saying a word? What was so bloody important?”

“Rhys, I think there’s something you might need to–” She saw Ianto stand next to her with the corner of her eye and her voice died. Not for the first time in her life, Gwen Cooper found herself wordlessly and fervently praying for Ianto to just keep his mouth shut and spare everyone the upcoming shouting and headache (and it had happened on so many occasions and with so many different people that she didn’t even bother to count), but just like usual, she was disappointed.

“Hello, Rhys,” Ianto said timidly. Rhys kept staring at him without blinking and her colleague had a dangerous gleam in his eyes that reminded Gwen – rather belatedly – that he really wasn’t Rhys’s biggest fan. “Oh, don’t act surprised, now. I’m Torchwood. Did you really expect me to be dead?”

Rhys turned to Gwen, an incredulous expression on his face. “Is he immortal too?”

“Not really,” Gwen mumbled as she tried to direct them both towards the exits. “Just very stubborn. Come on, there’s a lot to do.”

**o.O.o**

Gwen had been meaning to bring up the Jack matter for a while now and had yet to actually do it, mostly because she suspected that during the interrogations in UNIT’s base he’d been told where the Captain was – or, more precisely, that he was off-planet. She’d tried contacting him, but nothing seemed to work and finally, four days after they’d came back, she got an idea.

“Where’s Ianto?” She asked as she passed through the kitchen. Rhys just scoffed and – not for the first time this week – Gwen was grateful that the new house was as big as it was and therefore reduced any meetings between her husband and her former colleague to a minimum.

“Hell if I know. He was headed for the garden last I saw him.”

She had to admit that Rhys had the right to act like he did, mostly because Ianto went out of his way to be a dick of epic proportions whenever Rhys was around. She didn’t really know what his problem was and wasn’t very eager to dig deeper into it, so instead she sighed and turned to leave the kitchen, only to have Rhys call her by her name.

“For how long will he stay here?” Rhys asked, lowering his voice and throwing a look in Anwen’s direction. She was engrossed in the toy she’d got with her cornflakes box, but Gwen knew why her husband didn’t want her to hear – Anwen seemed to really like their guest.

“He’s working on it,” Gwen said after a moment of thought. “Setting himself up with a new identity and all that jazz takes some time.”

“And until then we’re keeping an alien under our roof, is that it?”

“It’s Ianto, he’d never hurt anyone!” Gwen exclaimed. They hadn’t had this conversation until now, so she’d just assumed that Rhys was fine with the situation they’d found themselves in. When he didn’t look convinced, she went on. “He’s spent his entire life until this point protecting the Universe and for over two years, I’ve worked with him on that task. Do you think I’m dangerous too?”

“Of course not, but–”

“Well, the only difference between us by that time was our origins. I know that you’ve never trusted him – or Jack, for that matter – because they were Torchwood, but at least trust me.”

“I thought we’d agreed that we wouldn’t talk about that anymore.” There was an almost pleading edge to his voice. It was always ‘that’ when they did talk about it, never ‘Torchwood’, as if he was afraid of saying the word.

Gwen gave him a tight but sincere smile. “Haven’t you heard? There’s no quitting Torchwood.”

And really, she couldn’t stop smiling even if she wanted to.

**o.O.o**

“You look ridiculous,” Gwen said as she approached Ianto. He looked up from what he was doing – cleaning the garden, as it seemed – and grinned.

“You always know just what to say.”

He was dressed in a shirt and jeans, which wasn’t that unusual, but they were both old clothes of Rhys’s, which meant that they were too big and too short at the same time, making him look a bit like a scarecrow.

“You don’t need to do that, you know,” she said, pointing at the neatly organised patch he’d already finished. “You’re a guest, not a servant. And we need to get you some clothes.”

Ianto shook his head, avoiding her eyes in what she recognised as the ‘this is going to turn into a discussion but I have no other choice than to reply’ look. “I’ve got enough clothes on my ship.”

“Oh.” So that’s what the look had been about. She’d forgotten again. It was easy to forget when Ianto looked just like any other human and when having him around was so much like the old days.

“Is that by any chance,” Gwen started tentatively, her mind going back to the idea she’d had earlier, “the same thing as the Doctor’s ship?”

Ianto laughed. “No. I’ve got my own TARDIS.”

“You thought he’d called UNIT, thought,” Gwen ventured. “So you know him.”

Ianto nodded. “He– checked on me sometimes. We’re the only ones left, after all. I told him that I wanted him to stop doing it and he did, but he’s– a bit like a father to me.”

“I see,” Gwen said. “And where have you got it parked?”

“Huh?”

“Your– TARDIS, was it? Is it around somewhere?”

“Yes, it’s in the outskirts of Cardiff. How else do you think I got Lisa from London to Cardiff?”

“Can you show me?”

Ianto seemed delighted at the opportunity to finally do something – which UNIT had strictly forbidden, given that he’d been dead for over two years as far as anyone in Wales and Great Britain in general was concerned. “Of course. Why not?”

“Great.” Gwen took her phone out of her pocket. “Just let me get my bag.”

Once inside, she rapidly typed the number she’d already memorised. “Martha?” she asked quietly as soon as the line was open.

“Gwen! Is everything all right? Something wrong with Ianto?”

“No, we’re fine,” she hurried to assure. “It’s just– you’ve got the Doctor’s number, right?”

The silence that followed was a surprised one. “I do.” It sounded a bit like a question and Gwen couldn’t blame her; it was a rather strange reason for someone to call.

“Could you get in touch with him? I want you to tell him that his protégé is all right, not that he checked. Tell him that he needs to serve as a messenger for a while.” Gwen paused, unsure, then went for it. “Tell him to find Jack.”

**o.O.o**

“So, Mrs Cooper,” Ianto started as they stood in front of one of the Torchwood warehouses. “Wanna see my ship?”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Gwen said absently as she watched him unlock the door with an unhealthy amount of curiosity.

“And to some boys as well,” Ianto replied light-heartedly and walked in when the door swung open. “Come on, it’s in here.”

On a first glance, the place seemed empty – save for the same vital supplies that they’d found when they’d been running away from Johnson and her people – and only when she followed Ianto in the near darkness of the warehouse did she notice it.

It was hidden between several piles of boxes and it was impossible to see from most angles (which, she supposed, had been the idea) – a silvery sphere, the classic definition of a spaceship, and not more than two meters wide and three meters tall.

“It couldn’t have been really comfortable in there,” she noted and Ianto grinned, crouching on the ground and taking something from underneath the ship; something that had apparently been plastered to it.

“See for yourself,” he said, unlocking the door and opening it for her.

What welcomed her was definitely unexpected and more than a little alien, which was also why it was so absolutely _amazing_. Gwen found herself smiling again, almost subconsciously, as she tried to take it all in with her eyes.

The room was vast and if the stairs in different corners of it were something to go by, it was only a part of something much bigger. There was a console in the middle with all sorts of levers, buttons and keys and at least ten different screens spread all around it. The equipment was mostly brass or aged gold and leather, as was the entire room – even the walls glowed with gentle, welcoming golden shimmer.

“Be careful,” Ianto said as he closed the door. “He’s a bit wary with strangers.”

“Who is?” Gwen asked, still distracted by everything she could see around herself.

“My TARDIS,” Ianto said, caressing the console fondly.

Gwen snapped out of her reverie. “Your TARDIS is scared of strangers?”

“Not _scared_ , just a bit hostile. He seems to like you, though,’ he added when the lights started shifting across the walls and a strange, ethereal feeling came over Gwen.

“Your ship is sentient?”

“It’s a bit like Mainframe. You’ll never see him speak or walk by himself or something like that, but you can feel the life pulsing through him.”

“I can,” Gwen agreed softly, then looked sideways when Ianto made to get out of the room. “Where are you going?”

“The wardrobe. You were right, I look ridiculous.”

**o.O.o**

“Rhys is going to go spare if he were to ever learn about this,” Gwen sighed as she sat in one of the chairs by the console. The idea of coming here had been mostly so they’d be able to speak and Ianto would tell her the whole story, start to finish. Unfortunately, ‘took a trip with Ianto’s spaceship’ didn’t click well with the question ‘what did you do today and why exactly couldn’t I go back to work?’.

“I think I can take care of that,” Ianto said. He was back into one of his suits and seemed completely in his element, even though the look he sent to the console was one of longing over something he’d probably lost long ago. “As you probably know, this is a time/space machine, which means that I can get us anywhere and anywhen. We have to leave this spot to return to the same second, though.”

“You lost me at ‘I think I can take care of that’,” Gwen said, then got up and stood next to him. “How do you drive this entire thing by yourself?”

“You don’t. You’re supposed to fly it with five more people. I used to do it with my team.” He seemed lost for a moment and Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You can still do it with your team, you know, even if we’ve been cut short.” He raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what to do.”

The smile Ianto gave her was  almost blinding. “Hold that,” he said, attaching her hand to one of the levers, “and turn this thing here to the left until we land,” he added and placed her other hand at one of the things that looked a bit like a joystick. “I’ll try to do the rest.”

Gwen watched him as he wandered around the console, pressing seemingly random buttons until the whole room started shaking and she held on to what she was already holding even tighter.

“There we are. Far enough from Earth for me to be able to return to that exact moment.” When Gwen let go of the controls, Ianto neared the door. “Want to take a look outside?”

She found herself nodding and he opened the door wide enough for the both of them to be able to stand on the threshold and see what was before them.

Gwen remembered the only time she’d seen Earth from above – it had been during a mission gone wrong that had ended in her being taken on a spaceship temporarily – but even then it had been through airtight windows and with an ever-present computer that constantly asked her if she’d like something to eat.

This was something completely different.

It wasn’t as big as she’d expected it to be – probably Ianto had taken them long enough to not be spottable by any satellites – and the Sun wasn’t close enough to blind all the stars she could see. Millions, billions of them, and it was overwhelming. It was so much to take that–

“You can sit down if you’d like,” Ianto said quietly. “I can make coffee.”

And this was how they found themselves, ten minutes later, both with their feet hanging outside in the open space, a steaming cup of coffee for both of them as they stared down at the planet below.

“So,” Gwen started, tearing her eyes from the sights in front of her for long enough to look at Ianto. “I think you had a story to tell. About the Time War and the Doctor and how you ended up here.”

“Yes,” Ianto agreed softly and took a deep breath. “I’ve kept it all in for so long,” he murmured and sent a small smile her way. “It’s probably dying to be told already.”

_You and I, Love, together we ratify the silence  
_ _While the sea destroys its perpetual statues  
_ _Collapses its towers of wild speed and whiteness:  
_ _Because in the weavings of those invisible fabrics  
_ _Galloping waters, incessant sand  
_ _We make the only permanent tenderness_

**_Boeshane Peninsula, Year 5047_ **

"Seriously, Jack, stop being such a pain in the arse," John said for the hundredth time over the communicator each agent had on their walls, and Jack sighed.

"We've got an assignment tomorrow," he reminded wearily and flicked through the pages of his notebook, distracted. He was still learning all the  laws of the Time Agency and the last thing he needed was more distraction than his mind already provided him with. "If we get pissed now, we'll fuck it up. You can't expect me to deal with Sontarans and a hangover at the same time."

"I've got two bottles of hypervodka just for you, and you decline them because of Sontarans?"

"Don't you dare drink any of it. I'm not going to even try to work with you tomorrow if you can't even stand straight."

There was a sigh on the other end of the  line. "Okay. But tomorrow night we're going to drink it all, all right? I'm not keeping that stuff in my room for longer than twelve hours." Of course he wouldn't want to, Jack thought. Any kind of alcohol was strictly forbidden in the Agency.

"Fine," Jack conceded and sighed with relief. He'd known that John would give up in the end. After all, that was why they'd been paired together. He was just about to say something more when his hair was ruffled by a wind that didn't have a visible source and that he recognised immediately. He ended the connection as soon as possible and stood up, already smiling as the TARDIS started materialising.

A smile that disappeared as soon as the door opened.

He took Ianto in his arms when the man stumbled out of his ship and fell forward. He wasn’t really all that surprised; he’d been visiting – just as promised – when he had the time, and things had progressed enough for rumours to start in the Agency – most of which happened to be the truth, not that Jack had ever tried to deny them.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, getting Ianto to his bed where he could get him to lay down. When there was no response, he tapped the Time Lord’s cheek. “Ianto?”

“I’m fine,” Ianto mumbled, blinking rapidly against him, then tried to sit up. “It’s just a scratch.”

Jack looked down his body and finally spotted the ‘scratch’. Just above his left knee, there was an open wound made fully visible by a burnt patch in his uniform.

“What happened?” Jack asked, already going through his cabinet for the first aid kit every agent was obliged to keep. “Who did this?” He needed to know not only because he was concerned but because he needed to know how to treat it.

“Daleks.” Ianto tried to laugh and then let out a low, pained groan. “Of course it was Daleks. Who else?”

Jack took out the antiseptic and started cleaning the wound. Ianto took it without as much as a sound despite the pain and Jack took the opportunity to keep talking. “What happened?” he repeated. “Where’s your team?” Not that he minded playing nurse, really, even if there were better times for it, but there were people – Time Lords, actually – who’d understand his body better and help him quicker.

“They’re all dead.” Ianto’s voice was emotionless. “All of them. I came– I came to say goodbye.”

Jack’s fingers froze over the wound he was working on. “What?”

“We were on Moldox, fighting the mutants – you know, the genetic experiments the Daleks go through to create bigger, stronger versions of themselves. They caught us off guard.”

“I thought you could regenerate,” Jack said quietly, afraid to look up at the Time Lord’s face as he laughed sardonically.

“Fat load of good regeneration is when you get vaporised.” Jack finally dared to look up and realised that this was why he’d been scared – he’d known what he’d see.

Ianto’s crystal blue eyes had turned into two blocks of ice; empty, as if their occupant had vacated them ages ago.

“What was that about a goodbye, then?” Jack asked, voice barely audible.

“The Doctor–” Ianto hissed when Jack’s fingers kept working over his injuries. “There are rumours that he’s going to freeze us. Gallifrey, I mean.”

“Freeze you how?”

“By putting the entire planet in a Time Lock. Freeze it in one single moment – not only Gallifrey, but the entire War.”

“Meaning?” Jack was quite sure what it meant by the unease that curled his stomach into a ball.

Ianto raised a hand and his fingers stroked over Jack’s cheek. “Meaning that everyone outside Gallifrey and Skaro will forget about it. Reality is falling apart; someone has to put an end to this. Our war is led in every corner of time and space; it can’t go on like this.”

“And he calls himself the Doctor? How does a _Doctor_ freeze two planets and erases the memory of half the Universe without thinking twice about it?” He hadn’t meant to be rude, especially if this Doctor happened to be a friend of Ianto’s, but he couldn’t help it.

“Oh, believe me; he thought about it a lot. And, hey, you know how the saying goes – never trust a Time Lord.”

“Bit too late for that,” Jack shot back bitterly.

“Don’t worry about me,” Ianto waved him off. “This is pretty much me running away from the Time Lock. I’ve been warned and I don’t fancy spending the rest of eternity trapped in one moment.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop worrying about you,” Jack said quietly and this time Ianto found the strength to sit up. He smiled and trailed his fingers down Jack’s face once more.

“It’ll be easy for you,” he said gently. “You won’t even remember me. When you wake up tomorrow, the Time War will be nothing more than a myth; a story about a race that’s been extinct for centuries.”

“I won’t remember any of this? Not even the first time we met?” Ianto shook his head and Jack looked away from him. If the Time Lord couldn’t see the look in his eyes, everything would be okay.

Everyone in school had had their idols. Jack had found his own a bit later, but it was still good to have someone to look up to. And now, even years later, it felt good to be reassured and praised by said idol.

“About time you stopped letting me define you,” Ianto said quietly, as if he’d heard his thoughts. “And started building yourself without me.”

“Tell me something,” Jack blurted out. Ianto raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to forget it all anyway. Tell me something that matters.” He finally met the Time Lord’s eyes. “Tell me your name.”

“You know my name.”

Jack shook his head. “You told me that everyone calls you Ianto, not that it was what you were actually called. And I’ve heard that Time Lords never say their names out loud.”

“And there’s a reason for that,” Ianto said. “There’s a lot of power in a name.”

“Exactly. This is why I want it,” Jack said. “I told you; tell me something that matters.”

“What would be the point now?” Ianto’s voice was quiet and it still felt like every word was a dagger in Jack’s heart. “You’ve got to know that I’m going to remember every second from this, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“I want it as insurance,” Jack admitted after a small pause. “If I’ve got something really important from you, it might mean that I’ll meet you again one day.”

Ianto gave a small, short laugh. “I don’t think the Universe bargains like that, Jack.”

“Who knows? It just might.” When there was no reaction, Jack pressed further. “Come on, Commander. Are you scared to say something as simple as a name? What could I do with it in twelve hours?”

Ianto gave a sigh of resignation and leant in, looking around them as if to assure himself that there was no one else in the room and then his breath touched Jack’s ear. “Iantournardchanaytoniss.”

Jack’s breath caught in his throat. That word alone sounded so full of meaning, so _ancient_ that it almost felt like he wasn’t allowed to hear it.

“Thank you,” he whispered almost fervently and brought Ianto closer by the lapels of his jacket. “Thank you.”

They kissed and the gesture was full of all the things that would remain unsaid and all the days they would never get with each other until Jack whispered against his lips, “I wish I could never forget you.”

He kept chanting his name – that foreign, complicated, brilliant name – in his mind until he fell asleep.

**o.O.o**

**_Cardiff, Wales, Year 2011_ **

Jack appeared in the same way he’d left two years ago – in a small blink of light. Gwen saw it, though, and neared him as quickly as possible. She allowed him to hug her without saying a word, because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk for all that long without giving up to the temptation of letting them meet.

“You really went out of your way to get me here, didn’t you?” He asked as he took in the house, the beach and his surroundings, but she ignored him.

“You know, when he was still alive,” she started, not quite meeting his eyes, “no matter what happened and how bad it was, you always said you’d come back. Whether you had to go somewhere or you died, or anything, really, you always said you’d come back. The dashing hero, always ready to save the world.

“And then he was dead.”  There was no point of stating who ‘he’ was – the unspeakable sorrow written all over Jack’s features was enough. “And when I asked you if you’d come back, all you said was ‘what for?’. The hero was gone and all I could see was a scared, lost little boy.” She fell quiet for a moment before deciding to carry it to the end. “But I found it. I found a reason for you to come back.”

“Does the world need saving?” Jack asked, expression somewhere between intrigued and detached.

“No,” Gwen said with a smile as she looked over the Captain’s shoulder to the figure approaching him from behind. “You do.”


End file.
